


Swallow Your Sleep

by flowerslut



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:58:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4639995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerslut/pseuds/flowerslut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakura knew that planning to kill a Kage wouldn't be easy, so abandoning her life was a price she was willing to pay to get the job done. But becoming a pawn in a game she wasn't ready to play had never been part of the plan. "You've always been so foolish, Sakura."</p><p>Rating will go up in future chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Green eyes assessed the room, studying its contents carefully, trying to make everything look the way it was supposed to: neat, orderly, with dirty laundry still in the basket in the corner of the room.

Her focus remained on her windows for a few longs seconds, staring at the curtains that she kept tightly shut. She knew that at one point over the past hour, an ANBU had passed by, carefully studying the houses, perhaps peeing into the windows, to make sure that everything was the way it should be.

Of course, if it had been a Hyuuga, she would’ve been found out already; her suspicious behavior certainly would’ve caused alarm and _Hokage-sama_ would’ve been alerted right away.

But she had to make sure that nothing looked out of place. So when she left her bedroom, her normal clothes on and her old, worn, backpack thrown over her shoulder, she knew it looked like she was simply going into the hospital for a late shift.

That’s what she’d told her parents at least.

Her stomach churned when she thought of them. Their last conversation that had taken place at dinner that very night could very well be the last time she ever spoke with either of them. Now, they lay sleeping in their bed in the room across from hers.

She would’ve never been able to tell them anything, or to even _hint_ to them that something was awry or that she’d be going somewhere. If she’d wanted them to live, they’d have to remain entirely oblivious and ignorant to what she was planning.

She didn’t want anyone else she loved killed.

Walking down the streets of Konoha, she quickly—but not fast enough to arise suspicion—made a bee-line for the main gates. Praying silently, luck finally came through for her when she didn’t see a single familiar face the entire walk. With the gates in clear view, she knew it would only be a matter of minutes before she was out of the village and running far, far away.

Stopping before the front gates she politely smiled to the ninja sitting behind the desk off beside the road. He had a vaguely recognizable face; she could remember he was somewhat new, older than her by possibly ten years, and his sandy blonde hair and blue eyes almost reminded her of Naruto. For the life of her Sakura couldn’t remember his name, but she greeted him politely anyways before approaching and informing him that she’d be back by sunrise—right after she knew his shift ended and someone else would take his place—and that she was just going to the gardens Konoha had that were located several miles east of the village, to retrieve some herbs.

He smiled right back at her, showing off the gap where a front tooth was clearly missing, before nodding and waving her off, after jotting a few notes down on a clipboard.

Yet before she could even turn away from him, breaking eye contact, she felt a presence immediately to her left. From the look on the ninja’s face in front of her, she knew it was an ANBU. Her stomach churned once more as she recognized the look on the man’s face as panic; _fear_.

“Pass please.” The ANBU ordered in a stern, almost-nasally voice. Sakura frowned as the strange voice fell on her ears; of course she wouldn’t recognize his voice. She’d never been in contact with a majority of any of the _root_ agents, with the obvious exception of Sai and the ANBU that now kept guard at the front of the hospital during the day time.

With compliance, she turned and handed the guard her perfectly-formulated excuse in the form of a small, yellow slip of paper.

“I’m going to the hospital’s gardens. The ones east of the village. I should be back soon, I need to pick up herbs for my medical salves.” She tapped her foot impatiently. “I have patients waiting that could have used some of this stuff _days_ ago,” she did nothing to hide the annoyance in her voice, implying that it was due to the new, near-constant ANBU patrol and their need to stop and check-in with the ninja that roamed the village. ‘For security purposes’, they would also say, but Sakura knew better than that.

 _Hokage-sama_ didn’t trust a single ninja who had worked under the Godaime.

Sakura knew this wasn’t a random stop though; with her proximity to Tsunade, it made her a prime candidate to being tailed nearly day in and day out.

“It’s past curfew,” the ANBU informed her, handing her back the slip of paper.

Sakura rolled her eyes clearly, knowing that he’d see, and pocketed the pass. “Hence why I have special permission to leave the village,” she said it clearly, as if an idiot could’ve figured that out. “The hospital never closes, and my shifts never really end. That’s what happens when you’re a medic. Now,” she made a move to step around him, “if you’ll excuse me…”

But as he blocked her path again, she halted, looking up at the mouse mask he hid his face with and managing a half-hearted glare.

He didn’t say anything, he simply studied her, eyeing her up and down and even leaning towards her, only to loom over her for a few long seconds as he appeared to study the top of her head.

“Are you done?”

The man remained silent but eventually it was clear that his urge to end their exchange overpowered his need to stay and question her further. Instead of stepping aside, he became a blur as he launched himself upward and into the trees, disappearing into the night.

Sakura didn’t even look back toward the ninja at the desk before she briskly walked away, through the gates, and away from the village.

As soon as the gates were out of sight, she began to run. And as she picked up speed she worked hard to keep her emotions—and ultimately her chakra signature—in check and under control. The last thing she needed was for an ANBU to leave the village and chase her down due to something as suspicious as that.

And when she was absolutely certain that she wasn’t being tailed, she paused, turned West, and took off, _sprinting_ through the trees as fast as her legs could carry her.

Minutes turned to hours, and hours brought her the sunrise, the heat of the late summer, and determination for her to travel farther, faster, and to get out of Fire Country as quickly as possible. As noontime approached, her mind betrayed her and she found herself thinking back to her friends, who were undoubtedly awake now and beginning to realize that something wasn’t right.

The ANBU certainly knew at this point that she wasn’t coming back; had they dispatched teams to track her down yet? She couldn’t know for sure. Possibly. And that fact only made her run faster, and push her body farther.

She’d sooner lie down in the dirt and die before she let them catch up to her and bring her back to Konoha.

With the goodbyes she’d never gotten to say still on her tongue, itching to be spoken, Sakura found herself blinking back tears as she bit her cheek, trying so hard not to think about her friends, her family, and her _teammates_ that would soon find out what she did.

The only solace she found was that thankfully, they did not know what she was _planning_ on doing. Keeping them all ignorant and completely blind to her plan; meaning they were safe from the Hokage’s harm.

Or at least she hoped.

Letting out a frustrated cry, Sakura allowed herself to have a moment of weakness; she could only afford _one_. Releasing the tears she’d been keeping at bay for the past several minutes, she let the tears fly behind her where they would ultimately lay forgotten in the dense forests of Fire Country.

It had to be done, she knew. And she had to be the one to do it, or else the life as she knew it would never exist for her again.

Wiping sweat from her brow, she reached around and grabbed her canteen from her pack, flipping the top open and taking a swig of the cool water, before placing it back and continuing on.

Her forehead felt painfully bare as beads of sweat trickled down her face, attempting to cool off her body in the summer heat. But it wasn’t something she could dwell on too much. After all, it wasn’t as if she could’ve taken her headband with her, no matter how much it meant to her. No matter how much she loved her village.

By now, Naruto had certainly found it, carefully wrapped and placed at his doorstep.

He could hold onto it for when she returned, just like he was doing with Sasuke’s.

Sakura then found herself, not for the first time since she’d left late the night before, thinking of her old teammate, friend, and the boy she fell in love with those years ago.

Although it was months ago, it seemed like just yesterday when they found him, Naruto, Sai, Captain Yamato and herself, camping out in one of Orochimaru’s many hideouts. His voice still chilled her to the bone, as he spoke of sparring Naruto’s life on a whim and severing the bonds he held with them.

And even so, she felt herself yearning, aching for him to come home so that the hole in her chest that his departure had left could begin to slowly heal. Now, it was still empty, filled with nothing but the sound of his goodbye to her—“ _Sakura_ , _thank you_ ,”—echoing through.

The pain she felt in her heart was something she was used to experiencing, but that fact didn’t make it any easier to bear.

As she stopped by a river, only long enough to fill her canteen, and submerge her head completely, effectively cooling her off, she wondered where he was at that very moment, and if he ever—even if rarely—thought about her in passing.

She hoped so, but didn’t hold her breath.

* * *

 

She quite literally stumbled across her first checkpoint late that night.

For over 24-hours straight, she’d ran across the entire west side of Fire Country, crossing the border into Wind Country before sunset and beginning her trek upward toward Earth Country immediately after.

A part of her had wanted to first travel to Suna before going anywhere else. The urge to seek out the aide of Gaara and the Hidden Sand was overwhelming, but she forced herself to resist.

After all, knowing the way _Hokage-sama_ operated, he was likely to contact Sunagakure to tell them to keep an eye open for her. And she knew that the way tensions had been running high throughout the Five Great Nations recently—courtesy of the Akatsuki—hiding her from her home village, while struggling to keep relations from getting messy, would be at the bottom of their list of priorities.

So her plan was to lay low for the first month, stay under the radar, and when word of her leaving the village would pass by like old news, she would travel to Suna. In the meantime, she had to seek out allies; as many noteworthy and trustworthy people as she could scavenge up who knew of the current Hokage’s past.

It wasn’t an easy plan, and she only had two names—meaning two set stops—in her mental list prepared.

But before she could put any aspect of her plan into action, she needed to find a place to wait for the storm to fade away.

And with the moon in the sky, Sakura traveled over the border of Earth Country and with her cloak on, and hood up, she walked into the tiny village that rested in a valley between two cliffs.

The village was eerily quiet, and as she approached, she found herself on high alert, wondering where any of the people were; for a moment she found herself afraid. Pulling her hood tighter over her head, she worried that she was breaking some unknown rule by walking their streets alone at night, with no other hint of life in sight.

It took her several minutes to find the lone inn of the village and when she did, she was pleasantly surprised to find its door unlocked. Stepping inside, she had to squint her eyes to adjust to the thick darkness of the room. Eyeing a lit candle by what she assumed was the front desk, she approached slowly, hand hovering over her weapons couch.

She almost jumped when an old man stood up in the corner behind the desk, looking at her with stern, beady eyes, and holding a crooked, bony finger up against his grimacing lips.

He was very tall, towering over the counter which was, to her, chest-high. She would’ve been intimidated if perhaps he were ten, or even twenty, years younger; and maybe if he were a ninja.

“You’re a dumb girl,” his voice was shockingly deep, rattling her to her core after a long day on the road, “for being out this late tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” she licked her lips, feeling that they had grown extremely dry over the course of the day, “I’m not from here, I just need a place to stay for a little while.”

“Clearly,” he eyed her up and down, “how long?”

“Four days,” she said, sliding money across the counter, “maybe more. But no less.” A part of her wanted to ask him _why_. Why was it so bad that she was out that night in particular? Was it some sort of custom she was going against, or a law that she was breaking by walking the streets? But when he handed her a room key and mumbled the location of her room to her, she was too eager to lie down in bed to inquire any further.

She found her room with quick, yet lethargic feet, closing and locking the door softly behind her before she walked over to the bed. She didn’t bother changing out of her clothes, nor did she take off her weapons pouch or even her boots.

She was well aware of the fact that if ANBU were to track her down and attack her, it would happen most likely within the first 72 hours of her disappearance. After that, the odds decreased dramatically with each passing day.

She’d been gone for over a day now, so all she had to do was sit on standby for another 48 hours while the ANBU ran around, searching for her.

It made her anxious to just lay still on a bed unfamiliar to her, but she knew that this village was a good choice; it was entirely out of the way of any of the Five Great Nations, and the only thing she knew about it was that it was prone to intense flooding during the beginning of the year. Of course since they were in the second half of the year, it wouldn’t do either party any good, but Sakura had done well to make sure she was aware of the geological significance of the small town.

Anything to lessen the odds of ANBU searching the village, the better.

She was surprised when she had to just about force her eyes to close. She was exhausted from her non-stop travelling and had assumed that she’d be asleep within minutes of arriving and lying in a bed. But there were too many voices rattling around in her head, and too many faces she had left behind, reappearing before sleep only to haunt her.

Forcing the memories back, Sakura fell into a comfort-less sleep, bits and pieces of memories melding together with old nightmares to ensure that her rest would be difficult to achieve.

* * *

 

The sound of harsh winds rattling her window is what caused her to jump awake the following morning.

Kunai in her hand and wide eyes starring with panic toward the old, rickety window, Sakura urged her breathing to calm and her hands to stop shaking. It didn’t help that she’d been woken directly out of a nightmare where she was running and fighting for her life from the ANBU that were certainly looking for her in some corner of the world right then.

As the window rattled again, she lowered her weapon and sighed, wiping away the nervous sweat from her forehead that she’d accumulated in her sleep. She was on high alert, and she didn’t think her anxiety had ever been this bad before.

Even when the village had been attacked, she’d been high on adrenaline. But her adrenaline was starting to run out, and she found herself growing antsy and anxious more and more with each passing hour.

The reality of what she’d done was finally beginning to seep into her mind, and her fear began to set in.

What would her parents think? She was sure that by now they’d been brought in for questioning, and her house had most likely been thoroughly searched. They wouldn’t find anything; no hints as to where she was, what had prompted her to leave, or what she was planning. They would find a relatively clean house and a somewhat tidy teenage girl’s bedroom.

They’d probably already finished questioning them. Even if they’d had someone from the Yamanaka clan search through their minds, they’d still come up empty handed, knowing nothing more than before.

Her friends though…

She’d worked hard to keep them from her thoughts, and as images of Naruto, Ino, and even Kakashi-sensei flashed through her mind, she found herself standing up out of bed, humming along to some random tune, trying to drown out the thoughts.

Nothing that they said or did would have been able to keep her in the village. And even if they found her, perhaps waiting for ANBU to return to receive permission to look for her, they’d need to bring her back by force.

There was no way in hell she could return to her village and live peacefully under Danzo’s reign. There was no way her conscience would allow it.

He’d murdered Tsunade, and Sakura was going to prove it, whether she had help or not.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The dawn of her third morning in town, she finally emerged from her room at the inn, having remained entirely secluded during her stay, eating the remainders of the food she’d packed.

She showered and changed into unfamiliar clothes; dark shorts that clung to her thighs tightly, and a matching black shirt with sleeves that ended just past her elbows. She wore the same boots she’d left in—one of the few reminders of home she’d brought with her—and slipped on a pair of black gloves with holes where her fingers poked out of them.

Trying not to make it obvious that she was a ninja on the run, she slipped a red sweater over her shoulders, keeping it unbuttoned and wearing it loosely, so that it would hide her weapons pouch that she had strapped to her lower back.

Slipping out into the hallway, she quickly bounded down the stairs and approached the front desk. Instead of the tall, ominous man that had been there a few days before, a young man, perhaps not much older than herself, sat behind the counter, flipping through a magazine when she walked by.

He took a double take as he noticed her presence and quickly shoved the magazine under the desk.

“Wha—um,” he cleared his throat, “how’s it going? I mean, what can I do for you?”

If it weren’t for her anxiety, Sakura would’ve found the fumbling over his words endearing almost. He wasn’t half bad looking. Light brown hair, a decent smile, a nicely defined jawline—but for a split-second Sakura’s thoughts went to Kiba and suddenly she wasn’t smirking anymore.

“Can you tell me where your closest market is? I need to pick up a few items.”

“Uh, sure. If you follow the main road and take the third left, you won’t miss it.”

She smiled widely, “Thank you.” Before turning, pulling the hood of her sweater up and over her head, and walking towards the door.

The wind was the first thing she noticed as she left the inn; it was harsh, cold against her skin, and unrelenting. Pulling her sweater closed, she buttoned it quickly and pulled the sleeves over her hands, trying to hold back a shiver.

She knew what weather to expect, but somehow the chipper air had caught her off-guard. Perhaps her body was still searching for Konoha’s summer heat that she’d left behind, and was having trouble adjusting to the frigid winds.

Stopping at a ramen stand, she couldn’t help it when she ordered a bowl, sitting down and eating quietly yet quickly, trying to fill up her stomach and move on as fast as she could. She knew she shouldn’t have indulged in something she _knew_ she would only do at home and with her friends, but despite the fact that she was trying not to think of them, she missed them.

Finishing her meal she stood and made her way toward the marketplace close by. It didn’t take her long, and fifteen minutes later she was already making her way back toward the inn where she was staying. As she entered, she paused at the front counter.

“Excuse me?” She asked, watching as he once more put away the magazine he was reading and gave her his full attention. “Where did that man go? The one that was here a few nights ago?”

“You mean gramps? Super tall, super weird, old man?”

She couldn’t help but smirk at the accurate description. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“He works at night. Don’t let him creep you out,” he advised, smiling at her, “he’s just a paranoid old man.”

“Well, he said something about me being out late the other night. About not being smart because of it.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What time did you get in?”

“I really don’t know. It must’ve been before midnight.”

“How many nights ago exactly?”

“Three.”

“Sunday night?”

She thought back and shrugged, “I guess so.” When his face paled, Sakura’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”

His eyes flew to the door, and then the windows next to it. When he seemed to find what he was looking for—perhaps to see if anyone was there—he turned back toward her and lowered his voice. “It’s dangerous to be out at midnight on Sunday’s around here.”

Sakura raised an eyebrow, “Okay?”

“No. Not ‘okay’,” he frowned at her dismissal. “Sunday nights are the only nights _they_ come.”

“Who is ‘they’?” a part of her wanted to end the conversation and simply retreat to her room in order to plan her next step, but a more powerful part of her wanted to stay and hear what paranoid thoughts this boy was about to share with her.

“They pass through maybe once a month or two, but they’re dangerous. Sometimes it’s two of them, sometimes three. They’ll kill you where you stand, just because they can.” He was whispering to her, as if they were children sitting in the dark, using flashlights to tell scary stories to one another over a fire. “I don’t know where you plan on going from here—since you’re clearly a stranger from these parts and all—but I really hope you get going soon. A pretty girl like you has no business being around here if they do decide to pass through.”

Hiding her annoyance, she merely lifted an eyebrow, “Why? Do they prey on women?”

“Not really. They don’t care who they kill though. Man, woman, old, young, if you get in their way, they’ll kill you.”

“And how many people have died from this? These people?” She asked, mildly curious. She hadn’t heard anything about something like _this_ going on, back in Konoha. Granted, since this was Earth Country, it wasn’t exactly within Konoha’s jurisdiction, but she figured that someone—Tsunade, or Kakashi even—would’ve mentioned it offhandedly.

“Eight,” he said grimly, a frown set deep in his features, “my younger brother’s best friend was one of them. They were just goofing off, late at night, and started throwing stones at what they thought were some travelers; just stupid kid stuff y’know? I mean I don’t think they should’ve been doing that, but to get killed for it?” He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned forward against the desk.

“Sunday nights you say?” Reaching into her pack, she pulled out some money. “I’d like to lengthen my stay by a few nights, please.”

* * *

 

Walking back into her room, she threw the goods she’d bought onto the bed before stripping herself of her clothes; the wind had kicked up an insane amount of dust and had dirtied her up pretty badly, despite being out for less than an hour.

The boy almost didn’t let her purchase the additional nights, but she had to assure him that it wasn’t because of the story he told him, but because she genuinely needed a place to stay for the rest of the week.

Neither was a lie, but neither was the entire truth.

Just that morning she had been stressing out over not having her next step planned out fully, and having a week to shut down and figure things out would give her enough time to gather her bearings. That way, she would be able to travel without worry to her next destination.

But if there were people that were travelling through here and killing random children… Sakura just knew she couldn’t let that go. Some days she wished her moral compass was broken, so that she’d be able to disregard people as easily as most ninja could. She could still recite every shinobi rule and law that she’d learned back during her Academy days, but now she knew how hard a number of them were to apply to actual practice.

She remembers one day, when she’d just begun her training with Tsunade, she’d mentioned it.

                _“I feel like I cry too much. I show too much emotion and it’s going to get me killed ‘cause I’m too weak to do anything about it.”_

_“What did you say?”_

_Sakura blinked, “That I cry too much and—“_

_“No, no.” Tsunade had waved a hand, not looking up from the scroll she was reading closely. “After that.”_

_“About being weak?”_

_“Ah, yes. Being weak.” She finally lifted her golden eyes toward her. “Why would you say that? Is it_ because _you show emotion?”_

_“Well, the rules say that—“_

_“Rules shmules,” Tsunade mocked, standing up from where she sat and walking around her desk, only to stoop to eye-level to Sakura. “Didn’t that brat Kakashi talk to you guys about the ‘rules’?”_

_Sakura suddenly felt nervous, “He said that people who leave their comrades behind are worse than people who break the rules.”_

_“Good,” she smirked, as if pleasantly surprised at the response she’d been given. “That’s good. Just remember that.”_

_“But, the rules—“_

_Suddenly, Tsunade was in her face again, “The only rules you need to concern yourself with are the ones I’ll tell you while you work under me. So you have a lot of feelings? Yeah, that might you get killed one day, but something is going to eventually get you killed, whether it’s on the field or off._

_“If your emotions can help you save someone in this job, with being a medic, then don’t suppress them. You have a gift Sakura. Do not stress yourself out.”_

Tsunade may have been right, but despite the fact that compassion was almost necessary to be a successful medic, it couldn’t help but make her feel inadequate as a shinobi.

How contradictory, she mused. To have hands that knew the feeling of ripping as well as repairing flesh.

But she supposed that with Naruto—who only ever let his feelings make decisions for him—and his propensity towards following your heart, she could follow his lead and do what she knew was right, despite whether or not she _should_.

Anything to give her an excuse to stay and figure out what was killing these people.

She found herself thinking back to Naruto again, his bright, happy demeanor. She thought about what he was doing now that she’d left him, just like Sasuke had done. Secretly she hoped that he wouldn’t resent her for what she’d done, or that he wouldn’t feel betrayed by her actions, or by her choice to keep him out of this.

He wasn’t meant to betray his village, that wasn’t his purpose and Sakura knew that even if he knew that, he would’ve wanted to come with her anyways.

She just prayed he wouldn’t come looking for her. He could look for Sasuke day in and day out, but she needed to be left, unfound.

The last words he spoke to her suddenly sprang to her memory.

It had been the day after Tsunade’s funeral and she’d been sitting at her desk, writing angrily down on a clipboard. He’d been standing in front of her, hands shoved into his pockets, expression morose. Sakura had hoped that he wouldn’t cry in front of her; she just didn’t think she’d be able to stay angry with him if he started crying.

                “ _Sakura-chan, I… I know it’s hard—trust me I know—but you’ve gotta… you need to breathe. Remember the good times. The things you learned. That type of stuff, y’know? I know you’re upset, but trying to blame someone doesn’t change the fact that she’s gone.”_

That had been the last time she spoke to him, and the last time she’d mentioned the fact that Tsunade had undoubtedly been _killed_ , not died from ‘natural causes’ like everyone thought.

He thought, like everyone else, that she was just in denial. That her refusal to simply accept Tsunade’s death was due to the fact that she simply didn’t _want_ it to be true.

The first time someone said to her that she was in denial—Ino, she remembers it being—she remembered snapping, and telling her that it had absolutely nothing to do with it.

                “ _You don’t believe me,”_ she’d whispered, shaking her head as her frustration took over. “ _You think I’m overreacting.”_

 _“I don’t think, I_ know _that you’re just looking for answers. I know that this doesn’t make sense to you, and I know that it’s understandable.”_ Ino had given her a glare. _“I didn’t say anything about overreacting though. Don’t put words in my mouth, Forehead.”_

The day of her funeral, her best friend had come looking for her in the training fields, tears full of eyes as she tried to drag Sakura back to her apartment to prepare for the ceremony.

                _“Come on, Sakura,”_ Ino had pleaded with her, _“we have to get ready. It starts in two hours.”_

Sakura hadn’t even looked at her, as she continued hitting her targets with kunai and running through various training exercises. “ _What’s the point of being a shinobi if I can’t protect the people I love.”_

_“It wasn’t about protecting her, Sakura. In a way, Tsunade-sama died naturally. There’s nothing you could’ve done. You know this.”_

Just replaying the words over through her head caused her to clench her fists and bite her cheek. When she tasted blood her frown deepened and—not for the first time that week—she tried hard to think about something else. Anything else.

But she couldn’t stop the memories from flooding her. Naruto’s face the day of the funeral. Kakashi’s refusal to look her in the eye. Ino’s frustrated pity. And even Shizune…

Shizune had been Sakura’s only saving grace, but only for a moment.

She’d shushed her harshly the day before the funeral, standing in her office—the room which they’d had Tsunade held in after the attacks and prior to her death—trying hard not to glare at the younger woman but also trying hard to dismiss her paranoia.

 _“I know you’re trying to think of an explanation for it all, but we knew that it was a possibility. We knew that Tsunade could die from her exhaustion. There’s just no reversal—no magic cure we can fix up—for this type of thing._ ” Her words had been quick yet soft, as if she were afraid of being overheard. Her dark eyes had shot from the door, to the window, and back to Sakura’s face. _“If you were smart, you wouldn’t go stomping around Konoha making these brash declarations. I’ve lost Tsunade-sama, and I refuse to lose you, too._ ”

That had been the only acknowledgement that Shizune had ever given Sakura that she understood what had happened, and that she knew better than to speak up about it.

That was the day Sakura had called her a coward, spitting the words out as she stormed out of the room and ultimately, the hospital.

They were the last words she’d spoken to her, besides anything that wasn’t about work around the hospital. She couldn’t even look her in the eyes; she was too angry at the older woman.

Sakura was still angry now. But she only wished she’d said something to her; maybe not a goodbye, but at least a promise that she was going to fix things. But with a sigh, she knew it was too risky to say something like that, especially to Shizune, who she knew that, much like her, she was under near constant ANBU surveillance. Orders from Danzo.

Her refusal to refer to him as the Hokage had gotten her in trouble a few days before her departure. She’d been gathering the rest of Tsunade’s personal items out of the office, alongside Shizune, when he’d walked through the door, flanked by two ANBU.

Shizune had greeted him with a proper ‘Hokage-sama’, and Sakura hadn’t acknowledged him at all. Much to the annoyance of one of his guards.

The quick-tempered ANBU did nothing to hide his dislike for her as he _demanded_ she ‘greet your Hokage properly’. Something snapped inside Sakura at that; her patience was hardly nonexistent at that point and she didn’t know _how_ she kept herself from physically attacking the man, but she managed.

Dropping the books on the desk so that they’d made a loud _‘thud’,_ Sakura had turned toward Danzo and made eye-contact with him, glaring with him and not bothering to mask her hate.

Then, she bowed over-dramatically, glaring at the floor as she spat out a sarcastic, “ _good evening, Hokage-sama_ ”.

The bandaged man said nothing, only stared back at her with an unreadable expression on his scarred face.

Sakura stormed out of the office immediately, unable to be in his presence any longer.

She hated him. She truly did. She didn’t think she have ever hated anyone more in her entire life. She didn’t think she _could_ hate someone as much as she hated Danzo.

He was taking over her village, he was giving the citizens—civilian and shinobi alike—unrealistic curfews and outlandish expectations, he was slowly sending away more and more of the powerful jonin of the village—she hadn’t seen Gai in a week in a half, she hadn’t seen _Kakashi_ in almost two—and he had only been officially in office for almost three weeks now.

She was sure he would’ve banished Kurenai somewhere else as well if it weren’t for the fact that she was heavily pregnant.

Repeating the word in her head, _banished_ , she knew deep in her heart that that was exactly what was happening.

Would she have been banished? She had to wonder, after all, she had been the apprentice to the former Hokage, one of her closest companions and confidents.

But she dismissed the thought. Shizune? Possibly. But Sakura? No, she was still nothing more than a silly girl. A chuunin with hardly any experience in her field. Sakura hadn’t been viewed as a threat.

Clenching her teeth together, she knew that proving him wrong would feel so sweet when he was finally taken down.

He would regret the day he underestimated Haruno Sakura.

* * *

 

As the sun set behind the cliffs, Sakura kept her window wide open, letting the cool evening winds flutter through the room, cooling her skin and sending her hair flying across her face. It felt nice on her clean, freshly showered skin, and for a couple of hours she sat on the bed, cross-legged and meditating, waiting for midnight to approach in the most peaceful way she could think of.

This would most likely be the last night of peace she could spare for herself for an undetermined amount of time. She knew she was being far too careless, too laid-back, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d pay for it dearly.

She’d leave that night, sometime after midnight, and head directly toward the Hidden Waterfall Village.

But only after hanging around a bit, and seeing if these widely-feared ‘murderers’ would show up.

Sakura knew it was unlikely. After all, when she’d arrived last week, she’d been the only person in the entire village out and about and there have been no sign of any other presence except for inside the buildings and homes. But as she thought about the boy who worked downstairs, and his younger brother’s dead friend, her heart ached. She would at least _try_ to see what was going on and put a stop to it. She had no obligation to these people, but if the Hidden Stone wouldn’t help these people, then _someone_ had to.

Relaxing for what could very well be the last time, Sakura kept her eyes closed and withdrew deep into her mind. She wasn’t at good at sensing chakra as Ino was, and was nowhere _near_ as good at it as Naruto now was, but she could still manage fine with the limited extended sight that her chakra sensing abilities gave her.

It was almost an hour past midnight—Sakura was just about to jump off her bed, grab her bag, and leave—when she felt something.

Shooting up and out of bed she was before the window in an instant, arriving just in time to see two figures, who looked eerily similar to shadows, meander out of her sight and farther down the road. Squinting her eyes to get a better look at their retreating forms, when she saw something large thrown over one of their shoulders, something that resembled a body, her stomach sank.

It was them.

Counting to ten, she waited a few seconds before hopping out the window, putting good use to the rooftops of the small village as she ran parallel to the main road. Just when she thought she was catching up, the duo seemed to vanish in thin air.

Pausing only long enough to confirm that yes, they seemed to have made a run for it, Sakura gave chase. Jumping across rooftops she ran and ran until she reached what seemed to be the end of the line.

But unlike Konoha, when this village ended it didn’t pick up with thick, dense forests. Instead, a rocky cavernous pit lay in front of her eyes.

Jumping down from the roofs, she quickly made her way down the steep incline, landing in between two sharp, severe-looking stalagmite formations, her eyes quickly scanning the immediate area. There was no sign of any other people, but she knew that there was no way they’d been _that_ much faster than she was.

It was after she took two steps when she saw it, a glimmering out of the corner of her eye. Turning and focusing intently on the rocks and boulders around her, she noticed that they were all too clean, shimmering in the moonlight. A regular shinobi wouldn’t have noticed…

… but Sakura had _always_ been good at detecting genjutsu…

And when she quickly dispersed the jutsu with a quiet _kai_ , her eyes widened as she watched one of the hooded figures running toward her, sword—it had been a strange-looking _sword_ , not a body—poised to strike.

Ducking low out of the way, she tucked her head and rolled right by the figure, her actions quick, practiced, and prepared.

When she readied herself, a kunai in her left hand and chakra surging through her right, she glared into the darkness at her opponent.

A maniacal sounding laugh escaped his body; the voice was loud, but not as deep as she imagined.

“She broke out of that genjutsu in seconds. You must be getting rusty in your old age, _Itachi_.”

 _Itachi_.

The name continued ringing through her head, like a shrill bell trying to warn her of what was coming.

Images of his face from their one encounter fluttered through her memory and she was powerless to stop the influx of panic that surged through her veins like ice. She tried to bite back the fear, but the fact that this time she was alone—Naruto was in the village and Kakashi was god knows where and Chiyo-sama was dead—made his presence feel entirely suffocating.

Turning to her left slightly, she could hardly make out his silhouette in the dark as he approached slowly, his steps soft and calculated. It was then when she noticed the blood red clouds decorating their cloaks.

That’s who’d been terrifying and killing these people.

Her anger began to rise.

“I suppose you’re right,” he agreed, sounding bored. “I do remember her being resistant at our last encounter as well. The blonde jinchuuriki however, not so much.”

Completely ignoring the fact that she’d somehow made an impression on the infamous Uchiha Itachi, Sakura bit her tongue and struggled to refrain from snapping at him. She hated this man more than anything. Perhaps more than she hated Danzo, but that was a fairly even race at this point.

“Ah, so she was on the jinchuuriki’s team. Meaning she’s an old friend of your brother’s then, huh?” With less concealed and clumsier movements, the larger of the two approached as well, hoisting his large sword up and over his shoulder. Sakura could’ve sworn she saw the thing _shiver_ as he patted it on the side, like someone would praise a pet.

His skin was a light blue and his eyes looked almost inhuman. In comparison, he made Itachi look downright _normal_.

“Yes, it seems so.”

Suddenly, her frustration with the situation was too much for her to handle. “I guess if you’re here then Sasuke hasn’t killed you yet,” she spat with as much malice as she could.

“No, not yet,” he said, almost as if he were distracted by something. As he grew closer to her, Sakura began to move her feet backwards, keeping herself aware of her surroundings so she wouldn’t be backed into a corner. It was hard to avoid his eyes—after all, it was something that all people did upon encountering others—but she managed to keep her sights on him from the neck down. “But,” he began, “how do you know that I haven’t killed _him_ yet?”

Sakura tried hard to mask her shock at his counter-question. “There’s—no. You didn’t. I know it.”

“And how do you know? I’m sure you don’t even know where he is. Let alone whether he’s alright or not. I could be coming back from killing him right now. And you don’t know it.”

He was trying to push her buttons, she knew it. But for some reason she couldn’t resist the bait. “That’s not true! He’s alive, and he’s not going anywhere until you’re long dead.”

“You don’t know that—“

“Yes I _do_!” She yelled.

“How?”

“Because I know Sasuke-kun!” Her back hit something solid and she began to panic. She was suddenly more furious at _herself_ than him for allowing herself to be distracted long enough to be cornered. Looking around quickly and finding nothing but the side of a cliff and a large boulder, she swore under her breath before turning her attention back toward Itachi.

That was when she made the mistake of looking him in the eye.

Immediately aware of her slip-up, his expression turned from bored into pleased in a split-second. An odd little side-smirk graced his lips, giving Sakura a strange feeling.

It was when she realized that he had the same smile as Sasuke when she found herself gasping. It was hard to remember they were brothers and that they shared the same blood, especially after everything.

“I’ll make this quick, since you’ll most likely break out of this in a minute or so.”

Her eyes widened, “A genjutsu—“

“You don’t know my brother as well as you think you do.”

Sakura’s jaw dropped. His statement sent her _reeling_ and she tightened her fists at her side. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t,” he repeated simply. “No matter how well you think you know him, you don’t know him well enough.”

“You have no right to say something like that to me! And what? You think you know him? Just because you were born brothers? You’re _nothing_ to Sasuke anymore, you hear me?” She was screaming and she could feel tears beginning to gather in the corners of her eyes but she couldn’t bring herself to care. If he was going to kill her than she was going to let him know exactly what she wanted him to know. “All you are to him is a goal to achieve. He’s going to kill you. And after that…”

“After that, what? He’ll come home to you?”

That statement caught her off guard, and she found herself stumbling over her words. “I’m not—of course he’d—what else would he do?”

It was a rhetorical question, but the moment the words escaped her lips she knew that Itachi had an answer for her; an answer that had been the center of much of her anxiety and nightmares that she’d had over the past few years.

The fact that Sasuke might kill Itachi and still not return.

“You know as well as I do that Sasuke is an emotional person. Not unpredictable,” he clarified, as if it were an important thing to distinguish, “just prone to impulse.” He stepped closer to her, as if to get a better look at her. He was within arm’s reach when he finally stopped again. “What will you do if he doesn’t return? If he _does_ manage to kill me but doesn’t come back to your precious village?”

“There’s no use returning now anyways,” she spat, hopelessness creeping up on her like a snake slithering up her body, ready to squeeze the life out of her. “Konoha will be run into the ground at the rate things are going.” She snapped. “You may even be alive to see it.”

Her words seemed to surprise him, as if the answer she gave him was not what he was looking for.

“Why? Because your village is in ruins because of the Akatsuki?”

“No,” she croaked, her legs feeling weak as tears began to fall down her cheeks, “because Danzo is going to kill everyone I love.”

There was a pause after that. Sakura was struggling to hold her composure as more tears slipped down her cheeks. Itachi simply stood, staring at her with a peculiar expression on his face, as if he were trying to figure something out.

“Your Hokage died in the attack.”

“That’s what everyone thinks,” she spat out cynically. “He murdered her. I know it. I know that he’s the one that killed her, and—and _no one believes me_.”

Sobs took over her, wracking her body and causing her legs to buckle underneath her weight. The truth of her own words spilling over her like a tidal wave.

No one believed her.

Danzo was a filthy murderer, had taken over her beloved village, and was causing people to disappear one by one.

And all that poor, little Haruno Sakura could do was cry into the dirt, head bowed before one of the most infamous Akatsuki members of all time, like a lamb at the slaughter, resigned to her fate.

“Get up,” his words rang through her sharply as he commanded her. “Stand up, now.”

“Aren’t you just going to kill me?” She sniffled, too ashamed of herself to even lift her head to look at him. Her question was truly genuine though. Here he had her, trapped in a genjutsu—that she hadn’t even made an _effort_ of escaping from—and on the ground before him, not even attempting to put up a fight.

Easy pickings, if she ever saw any.

“No Konoha shinobi that I know would ever give up this miserably. Stand _up_ ,” he repeated, pushing against her knee with his sandal, prodding her like stubborn cattle.

“ _I hate you_!” She screeched suddenly, throwing her head up, pink hair flying back behind her, as she shot a deadly glare at him. Meeting his bright red eyes she was shocked when she saw a flash of emotion flicker through them.

It was the first and only time she would ever see any semblance of emotion from the stone-cold murderer. And little did she know it would be the last she’d ever see out of him.

But Sakura had seen enough of that look during the last few weeks; pity was an easy enough emotion to recognize anyway.

“Hate me all you want,” he said, unaffected by her outburst, “but that won’t save your village.”

“It’s not like I can do anything anyways,” she snapped, her energy quickly evaporating, her fiery rage being replaced with a gentle ache in her chest. “I can’t do a damn thing.”

“So you’re fleeing as a refugee then? Running away from your village and its problems?” He mused. “Sounds like something a coward would do.”

The word _coward_ seemed to ignite something inside of her. Suddenly a memory of her spitting the same words at Shizune weeks ago flashed before her, and her anger picked back up.

She lunged at him, angrily, eyes blind with leftover tears. And when her hands grasped fabric she pushed chakra into her arms and legs and turned her body sharply, swapping their positions so that _he_ was up against the stone and _she_ was the one keeping him there.

“Shut _up_!” She screeched, her mind still reeling over the fact that he’d allowed her to grab him like that. “Just shut up!!”

 _It’s his genjutsu,_ she reminded herself quickly, her fingers digging into the black and red cloak, _you can’t do anything here anyways_.

He was more than an entire head taller than her, and even though she had him pressed against the wall, hands dangerously close to gripping him by the throat, he stared back at her calmly, as if entirely unthreatened by her actions.

“I wonder what you’re planning on doing next…” he spoke as if she wasn’t standing directly before him, her face close to his own. “Where are you planning on going…?”

Glaring deeply, she opened her mouth to tell him off, but when she began answering his question, she froze.

“To the Hidden Waterfall. Where one of Tsunade-sama’s old colleagues lives.”

“Why?” He commanded in a deep voice. She couldn’t focus on the fact that she was saying things she shouldn’t have been telling him, or that she couldn’t keep the words from spilling forth. All Sakura could focus on was the black tomoes in his scarlet eyes, spinning, swirling, morphing into different shapes and then returning once more. It was hypnotizing.

“She’ll know more about Danzo. More information that might help.” Her words were robotic, coming out automatically, despite her attempts to hold them back.

“No she won’t,” Itachi muttered quietly, still holding eye contact with her. “Then what?”

“Kabuto,” she replied, as if in a trance. “He knows things that Orochimaru knew. Orochimaru knew Danzo. The information can help.”

“It can,” Itachi agreed, as if thinking allowed, “but Kabuto is too unstable to bargain with. He’ll kill you or capture you before you can leave with any valuable information. Bad idea. Who else?”

“That’s it. No more.” And then suddenly, her eyes widened and she looked away. Releasing her hold on him, she gripped her own throat, slapping one hand tightly over her mouth as she stumbled backward. “Wh—what did you _do_ to me?” She screeched, the tears that had begun to dry beginning to gather once more in her eyes.

“Your plan is rudimentary and has flaws. It will never work.”

A fear that she hadn’t felt before suddenly overcame her. Itachi knowing her plans meant that the _Akatsuki_ knew her plans. And if they knew her plans then it was game over for her; there was no way they’d let her fix the situation that Konoha was undergoing. If anything, they’d use it to their advantage. After all, the village was still weak from the last attack, and with Danzo sending away more and more special jonin, he was doing so much more harm than good.

Somehow, when figuring out her plan, she’d never taken interference from the Akatsuki into consideration.

What a fool she was.

“You… you better leave the village alone! This is—it’s none of your business what’s going on over there! I can handle it! Leave the village alone or else I’ll—“

“You’re not going to the Hidden Waterfall, or the Sound Village.” His voice was loud and piercing—for some reason Sakura felt the need to slap her hands over her ears but she resisted the urge and instead turned to look at him once more.

Another mistake.

She found herself once more captured by the swirling red and black of his eyes, and some part of her subconscious screamed at her as if in an attempt to warn her of things to come.

“You aren’t going to either of those places. They’re dead ends. Pointless. A waste of time. Instead, you’re going to go somewhere else.” Suddenly, she wasn’t standing any longer, nor was she lying down. She couldn’t feel anything. All she could hear was his voice, commanding her sternly. All she could see was the red and black spinning and spinning and spinning…

The last thing she remembered before the darkness took her was the sharingan, setting her into a dark, cold, trance-like state…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just to clarify some things about the timeline, since I have altered some details and taken artistic liberty with some facts: Sasuke didn’t kill Itachi until after Pein’s attack as opposed to before it. That’s really the main alteration I’ve made. And of course everything diverges from the main plot from there.
> 
> This story will typically have updates every two weeks although depending on what type of feedback I receive and on how much writing I get done I will post more frequently. (This chapter is only a day early, but future chapters may be even earlier.)
> 
> Please review and let me know what you think. Predictions are always my favorite. Hope you enjoyed it.


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